Leave The Hurt Behind
by phantomluver4ever1
Summary: "The opera is done; the last notes have been played". Raoul looks back at what went wrong with his marriage and has realized that the only way to make Christine truely happy is by letting her go. Raoul's thoughts during Love Never Dies.


**Wow so it has been a few years since I've published a story. I just never have time any more and the inspiration hasn't ran this strongly in a very long time. Excuse me for my grammar and spelling errors! I still have not perfected my editing skills. I hope all of you enjoy. I decided to take a different twist on Love Never Dies and really explore Raoul's mind. No one really understands why he began drinking and gambling and I wanted to offer a reason why his and Christine's love died. I hope you like it and reviews of any kind would be greatly appreciated! **

You are as beautiful as the day I first met you. A perfect rose without a thorn to be found on your stem. That glimmer in your eyes has returned once more. It has been years since I had seen it in those dazzling chocolate eyes that can steal a man's heart in one glance. I remember it mostly when you were still the sweet little Swedish girl that was so happy and full of love. It seems like yesterday that we were small innocent children who had no idea what our future together would hold. I had gone to the small town by the sea in Sweden for the summer; for my father believed that I should explore the world and treasure all that it had to offer, even if it was a humble country such as Sweden. I wanted to explore the jungles of Africa like the stories I read in the library about brave heroes fighting against tigers and other exotic animals or fight off pirates in the Caribbean.

When I first arrived in the strange country of Sweden I wanted nothing to do with it. I missed Paris and seeing the beautiful city it was. I wanted to return home, not be stuck in a place where I couldn't speak the language and everything was rural as if they were just learning how to become civilized. After days of boredom I decided to follow my father's advice and to explore. I followed the dirt path all the way to the little town where so many were out doing their daily errands and jobs. Where were the nobles; those of my equal? All I could find were peasants and street urchins! I decided this town had nothing to offer me so I followed a path down to the beach. For a while I skipped rocks into the massive sea, hating and cursing this town and my father for having me come to a dreaded place such as this. I was about to leave when I heard someone from a distance singing. It was a small voice, but the wind picked it up whispering it into my ears. I followed it around a few rocks till I could see a small girl wearing a red scarf looking out at the sea. Her voice was untrained, but sweet. As I came closer the wind picked up her scarf and carried it into the sea.

"I'll go get it!" I called out as I ran into the freezing water without a second thought. I still remember it all. I felt as if a thousand knives were piercing my skin. I could barely move as the waves fiercely slapped against my face, causing water to enter my throat and me coughing. I was shoved under the water by a huge wave and hit the bottom. For a moment I thought I was going to drown at the bottom of the sea in this miserable country, but right before my eyes was the red scarf. I grabbed it and pushed off the bottom gasping for air as I reached the surface. Air could have never tasted sweeter than that moment. I was able to make my way back to shore, the waves gently pushing me back to safety after having almost taken me its' prisoner forever. The little girl came colliding into me, hugging me as tightly as she could. In between sobs she spoke Swedish which I could not understand. Finally she let go of me. "Here you go Miss," I said in French. Her eyes lit up as she realized we spoke a language we both could understand.

"Thank you so much Monsieur! You are my hero," She spoke enthusiastically in French, kissing me on the cheek. I looked at her more intently. She was a beauty even at the age of seven. Her chocolate brown curls ran down her back along with her hazel eyes that pierced your soul.

"My name is Raoul de Chagny: future Vicomte. What's yours?"

"Christine. Christine Daae: future chorus girl," She smiled. Christine. That was the day I knew I would love you forever. After that day we spent every waking moment together. You were angelic in every way. Though I realized you were not from a noble family I could care less. None of it mattered to me. I had met your father, the Swedish violinist, and he would tell us stories of Little Lottie and the Angel of Music. You were engrossed in the stories and promised that one day you would be visited by the Angel of Music. However I don't think either you or I could have predicted that later on it would come true. Though your Angel of Music turned out to be nothing more than a twisted, crazed, masked man, you still kept a piece of him close to your heart. I thought I had won your heart completely just as you had won mine, but I was wrong. The love for your Angel ran deeper than you even realized.

After that night of the fire, I thought we would be able to rid of the nightmares and move on with our lives. I thought we would start a family and live happily ever after. I had you all to myself. I was willing to give you the world if you asked for it. My love for you I was sure could not be matched by anyone else. For a while we lived in a façade of happiness. I tried to ignore the fact that the glimmer in your eyes you once possessed was gone. I tried to ignore the fact that when you thought you were alone you would sing, but once you realized my presence you stopped pretending to be reading out loud. It seemed as if we were tip-toeing around each other, afraid that any reminder of _Him_ would trigger our destruction. The resentment must have begun somewhere after our marriage. I thought our marriage would bring us closer together and would reassure me that you would always be mine and not _His._ I thought when you announced you were with child; it would create an indestructible bond. I thought wrong. I began to realize that you did not love me as much as I had first thought. I think you tricked yourself into thinking that you loved me more than you did. I believe you were scared to love him, because it should be wrong. No one should love a creature such as him. It frightened you that he had a power over you like no other. You wanted to explore the night that he offered you, but felt safer in the reassuring light that I could provide.

Soon the drinking began. I felt like I had lost you to him even if he was gone. I felt like he was hiding around every corner waiting to snatch you away. I didn't want to face the hurt and betrayal and so I lost myself in the tempting alcohol. I started avoiding home, gambling away our finances. I could not face those chocolate eyes that burned my soul. I thought that if I came home you would be gone, away with him. This pain was too intense. I thought I had won long ago! Why wouldn't I win? I was handsome! I adored you! I had loved you since the day I saved your red scarf in the sea! Why did you ever agree to marry me Christine if you were really in love with him? My life was falling apart fast. The drinking was my only comfort. I became a man I despised and the only way to keep away the living nightmares was by drinking more. I thought when I lost some of our money I could win it back. A drunken fool I was. You came to me, begging me to stop drinking; your angelic face in agony at seeing me in my drunken stupor. At times I could still see the love you had for me. It was small, but it was love all the same. You tried. Oh God! How you tried to help me out of the darkness, but I just pulled away from you.

I tried bringing our life back together once more, but it was already out of my control. When you received an invitation to New York that would pay back most of our debts, I reluctantly agreed. I thought that perhaps it would resolve all our issues and you would fall back in love with me. You would adore me again. I would have my family back and life would be the way that it was supposed to be. I would be the man I was: husband and father. However, when you began to practice your aria, singing once again for the first time in seven years, it brought back the nightmares of _Him_. Oh how your heavenly voice brought me back to that first night I had seen you on stage singing in the production of Hannibal. You used to sing to our precious boy, Gustave, when he was little. Your music brought happiness in our home and a sense of peacefulness. However memories of you clinging to him on that stage in Don Juan singing to him alone tormented my mind. One night after drinking into a dark state of mind, I snapped. I yelled and blamed you for everything. I blamed you for the fire, for having me search for you in the labyrinth of the opera house. It could have ended that day in the cemetery, God knows I had the chance, but you did not let me. You wanted me to save that horrid monster. Why Christine? Why? That night I had forbid you to ever sing in my presence again. As the obedient wife you are, you obeyed. You had asked once four years after that night if you could sing in the local opera house, but the thought of you, the star of the opera house, just like _He_ wanted, frightened and angered me. I was afraid you would draw him back. It also terrified me that you would leave me once you rose to stardom and that you would realize that the rush that music brings would be far greater.

You are still as beautiful as you were that night. You still hold an angelic innocence to your being; believing that _His _and my souls can be saved. I think the reason why we have both fought for you for so long and hard is because we have realized that only you can save us. I come to your dressing room before the aria, begging you to not sing. I know that if you sing that whatever hope I had of you loving me would be lost. You would be his and I would have to leave without you. I have dragged you through hell with my drinking and gambling. I have made you suffer in ways your tender heart should never have to suffer. I can see that the glimmer in your eyes has return from the excitement of performing and perhaps being near _Him_. Though I have no right to ask you to, I beg you to not sing the song. The glimmer is gone in a blink of an eye. You are startled and confused by my request, I can tell. You then tell me you must do this; that you need to. You need so much it is true and I have denied you. I then tell you that you will get back the man you knew, right here beside you. I beg you to just ask it of me, but we must leave this place behind. I could tell you are hesitant, but I can see the flicker of love return in your eyes for a moment. You do not say a word and in that moment I knew you had made your choice. I kiss you one last time before leaving. My love for you isn't enough and I am not what you need. You are made of finer stuff and it is time for you to be who you should be. I have come to realize that the opera is done; the last notes have been played. Once upon another time our story had only begun. We were two romantic idiots dreaming about a love that was never truly meant to be. Those two people we once were are gone. You have made your choice and it has past the point of no return. Now you stand on stage singing the aria you were born to sing. You have sacrificed so much for me and now I must sacrifice my love for your happiness. Forgive me, my dear Christine, for I have hurt you in ways in which you do not deserve. I regret all the pain that I have caused. Please remember me not as the drunken bastard I was, but the young boy who fell in love with you that day on the beach. Now the final curtain as fallen and I must leave this place and the hurt behind. May your Angel of Music give you what I wish I could give you somehow.

**Thank you for reading! **

** Love,**

** Phantomluver4ever1**


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